All 17.2 - Beauty Contest
"I know the colour looks like shit, ok? I get it, I didn't realize this is what it would turn out like." "Thats what you get for being a dumbass and picking that shade of green. I told you to go with the purple; even if you fuck it up, at least it never looks like someone puked on your head." Cress made a huffing sound. "It's wearing out anyway. It'll be back to shitty white in less than a week. S'what I get for using temporary shit." Lucca shot the elf a sidelong glance, "I still say you should just leave it the hell alone sometime, I refuse to believe its that bad." The pair continued to banter as they walked from the command room towards the mess, intending to make a snack of some variety. As they walked, someone slid down the ladder from above and moved to pass them in the hall. He wasn't immediately recognizable: a young man, probably not much older than the pair of them, with brown hair and a distinctive nose, who certainly wasn't on the boat earlier. It was the clothes that tipped them off. Either that was Cohen, suddenly looking 35 years younger, or his son with a similar fashion sense had somehow climbed aboard. He paid them no mind and continued on back towards the captains' rooms. Cress, for his part, stopped and stared. "Duuuuude. What the fuck?" he said, partly to himself, partly to Lucca, partly to the man walking away, and partly to the greater universe. The druid stopped a few strides after his friend and regarded the doctor with a frown and shook his head, "Yeeeaaaahhh...I ain't diggin it." Cupping his hands to his mouth, he hollered down the hallway, "Two outta ten! Try harder!" The shout stopped Cohen, who paused and looked over to see the other two men looking at him. He looked vaguely confused, turned slightly, and replied, "What...? ...Also, a two? Really? I know I'm not attractive, but a two?" He finished turning, crossed his arms, and asked, "What's the criteria?" Cress just shook his head slowly. "Is just weird, that's what it is," he muttered, again to both Lucca and himself. Lucca looked slightly taken aback, "I aint got no goddamn clue, dude. I was givin' you a two for creativity and execution....I don't have the slightest idea if you're attractive or not. I don't...do that sorta shit." A mild curiosity crept into his expression and he turned to Cress, "You do this sorta shit, though; is he better than a two?" Cohen made a snorting noise, "The spell is Youthful Appearance, not Alter Self. It just makes me younger, it can't change anything else. And bite your tongue, my execution is flawless. Unless you want to show me how to better convert a wizard spell into a chemistry recipe using household ingredients." He looked thoughtful again, and mumbled, "...Who would have the onus of creativity? My parents? Inheritance is semi-random, but you could argue their choice in mates, I guess..." Cress turned to look at Lucca. "...Dude. He is an old guy pretending to be a young guy. Even if I was gay, which I'm not, I'm not being a fuckin' beauty pagent judge for a creepy old guy in magic make-up. 'S fucked up." "What a dumb spell...I stand by my claim though: boooring. Why bother?" Once more turning from Cohen to the elf, he scowled, "Come oooon, don't be a bitch. It's a simple question! Is he ugly or no?" "Dude, no! This is fuckin' weird. He looks like an old guy, s'what he fuckin' looks like." Cress was obviously off-put by this whole thing. He crossed his arms and huffed, "I'm not fuckin' talking about whether old guys are hot or not, get bent." "Why bother shaving half your head and not the other?" Cohen retorted. "Maybe I want to look younger without having to consider whether I pictured my eyebrows right." The doctor then regarded Cress with a raised eyebrow, "Are you always this perturbed by shapeshifting?" "When you're an old guy and people are asking me if I think you're hot, yeah, yeah, there's a problem there!" Lucca gave a derisive snort and shook his head. "Well, you're not judging my normal appearance, you're judging my current one. So really it's a question of whether or not this image is attractive..." he thought and shrugged, "Or if you think I was attractive when I was 25, that would be valid too." "Not. Fucking. Gay!" Cress stressed. "And it doesn't matter, 'cause I'm just gonna keep thinking of what you're supposed to look like." "Supposed to? That's narrow," the doctor replied smugly. "Weren't you just talking about dyed hair? What are you supposed to look like?" "Totally fucking different!" Cress explained, turning to Lucca for support. "Totally fucking different, right?" "Not reeeaallly, no, dude. It's pretty much the same sorta thing." The druid shook his head, "Just cause shifting is more thorough, that don't make it much different than fucking around with your hair and shit." He snorted, "I don't get why you have to be such a pussy about shit like this though, dude. Like, come on! I can tell you that, like, moose with big antlers are pretty cool lookin, pretty hot to other moose, without actually wanting to bone one of them myself...it's basically the same thing." "If you can tell whether a moose is hot, why the shit do you need me to tell you if an old guy is?!" "'Cause I literally had somebody teach me how to! Which is basically what I'm asking here. So, like, come on! Answer the goddamn question!" "Gods, fuck you both!" Cress held up his hands and turned away. "You're both fuckin' weird!" he emphasized as he walked away towards the mess. Cohen watched him leave, his expression sardonic. "...Well, it's a good thing I didn't make myself look completely different. Could have broken something." "Aww man! Don't be like that!" Lucca called after the retreating elf, then muttered with a thoughtful scowl "Fuckin' guy...! Still didn't answer my question..." "...I'm at least a 5," Cohen muttered. "Probably a 6," he said, beginning to turn back to his original destination. Catching the other man's words, the druid perked up again and called after him, "Yo! Dude...how the hell are you gauging this shit? What criteria is your''scale measuring?" "Hmm?" Cohen looked around again. "...Physical attraction is just an index of variables, so based on the standard visual ones, symmetry, height, body proportions, musculature, I assume I wouldn't rate lower than half of the human male population, corrected for age. Maybe slightly higher, since my asymmetries are, for the most part, minor. ...Although that probably depends on the judge; there's an issue of preference involved there, and I'm probably favouring myself more than justified if I assume a greater than 50% attraction rating. I am rather average." He made a conceding expression, "This is, of course, also assuming other factors aren't considered, including personality, scent, fashion choices including clothes and hair style, or any sort of bias regarding pigmentation or other ethnic variables." Lucca looked rather intriuged by this explanation, "Tangible variables...I like it. I get it." He considered this for a moment, "How do you measure them, though? Like, which is better or worse, generally? Bigger, smaller, more, less...I mean, good symmetry is pretty consistent across species...but the rest can be pretty varied depending on what critter you're talking about...And like, kay, if we take you as average...what would make you better? Or worse? How would you rate someone else, comparatively?" Cohen crossed his arms and leaned against the ship wall, looking thoughtful. "The specifics depend on gender, especially in terms of proportionality. Height is important, particularly for males; short men are almost universally unattractive. Females are also attracted to broader shoulder width, and visible, clear measures of health: the male should be free of the suggestion of disease, have clear skin, and body that shows strength and virility, not being too thin but also not overweight. Men are also attracted to those markers of fitness, but in addition to health, also look at breast-waist-hip ratios. Women with broad hips, small waists and larger breasts are more attractive than those without. I vaguely recall reading about other markers as well. Smiling, apparently, increases facial attractiveness. Certain body postures and gaits are more suggestive and are therefore attractive. Women have different perceptions of attraction based on where they are in their menstrual cycle." He made a waving gesture, "As for me, I'm average height; I could be taller. I don't have an exaggerated shoulder-waist ratio. My nose is disproportionately large. I don't have much in the way of visible musculature. On the other hand, I'm not short, I don't appear ill, I'm not gangly or carrying excess weight, and my overall facial features are not seriously misaligned. So I break about even, I think." He sighed, "The whole thing is very subjective though, it's why I never much cared for psychology. Take glasses. Are they attractive or not? It depends. They are a clear sign of disease, a marker of poor vision. But they can also be regarded as a marker of wealth, or intelligence. They're usually worn by people who do a lot of reading, and are therefore smart; poor people can't afford them, and everyone agrees that money is stunningly attractive." Shrugging, he added, "It's a silly field of research, if you ask me." Lucca listened with a look of quiet fascination as the older man spoke, a small frown colouring his expression as he finished, "Silly why? How? It seems like it'd be pretty damn useful, to me..." Waving his hand dismissively, he replied, "You can get certain overarching patterns, but a lot of behavioural and psychological research is guesswork and politics. There aren't any rules, just endlessly written and re-written theories, made to suit cultural opinion like a hat forever going out of style. Some of it is rooted in biology, but the rest is opinionated flim-flam." "Hmm...I'll take your word on it, I guess. Still seems pretty cool...pretty useful..." he fell to looking rather thoughtful. "Out of curiousity, are you asexual? Needing to have attraction explained and all," Cohen asked conversationally. "The vast majority don't care about the science of it and just procreate with whatever they find pretty. That would be the long and short of it, after all." At this, the druid's eyes went wide, and the colour drained from his face momentarily before coming back in a rush, "Fuck off! That's none of your goddamn business!" Cohen rolled his eyes. "You act like I care. Lots of people don't experience attraction. Or is this like your friend earlier, concerned about the perception of your virility and offended at the implication of non-heterosexuality?" He paused and looked into space, made a small look of vague disgust, and muttered, "If I'm going to feel wrong every time I offend someone, I'm going to hang myself." "No, it is not. Not even remotely. It's-," he cut himself off with a scowl and small grunt of displeasure, "I don't have to explain myself to you." "No, of course not. Don't bother yourself, I've already drawn no less than four ill-informed conclusions. I don't need assistance." This caught the younger man's attention. He pursed his lips, eyes narrowing, "Oh? What the hell like?" "Nothing, nothing of importance," he waved his hand, "Your agitation is making me feel a rather unnatural sense of social discomfort that I don't think I've felt since I was a child, and it's beginning to make me consider the relative merits of death again. If you have no other particular topics of conversation, I'm going to go drug myself into sleep for a while and hope that when I wake up I've forgotten again exactly how much of my mortality I've lost." Lucca shot him a perturbed look, "...you...go do that, then. Have...fun?" "Whee..." he said flatly, twirling his finger around in the air. "Have fun with your issues of physical and/or emotional aversion." "What the fuck, dude!?" He held up his hands in askance, "What the hell is that supposed to mean!? What do you want?" "Nothing. I'm bitter and depressed, and my personality has been turned into a weapon against me. Is it or is it not about as fun as feeling defensive? I would think they're about the same." Caught off-guard by this, Lucca shifted uncomfortably, eventually muttering, "I dunno, I'd imagine you're probably right. Sucks shit." "Doesn't it," he said as a flat statement. "I'm not sure I can medicate defensive behaviour though." He rolled his eyes, "Well, everything can be fixed with the right amount of stimulant or depressant, but that's not often a sound medical decision." "Whoa dude, maybe let's not. I'll pass," the druid looked taken aback. Cohen made a wry look. "I wasn't offering, I was making a comment. There aren't many human cognitive problems that can't be soundly ignored using one or the other. Or do you not drink alcohol or caffeine?" "Not habitually, no...and certainly not how you're meaning," he looked a bit confused. "How's that?" "Huh?" "How am I meaning?" Cohen asked. "You're not drinking it to feel its effects? To be happy or awake or uninhibited?" He made a shrugging expression, "I guess you could drink it for refreshment, but there are really better substances for that." "I was under the impression you were meaning as a form of self-medication; but regardless," he waved his hand dismissively, "What's your point?" "I don't have one. My life is pointless and frustrating, and you are the one currently suffering for it. I'm sorry?" he said with no indication of actual regret. "I'm the result of an experiment in what happens when you keep a man with poor social adjustment in solitude for a decade, then reintroduce him to the wild. I have little idea of how conversation works for more than a minute." "...Huh. I guess that's fair enough. Sucks to be you, dude," he gave an awkward shrug. "Undoubtedly," he agreed. He looked about blankly for a moment, "And now I have forgotten entirely what I was doing in the first place." "Ain't that a shame? I'm sure you'll remember. " As he spoke, he began walking backwards towards the mess. At the same time, his features began subtly changing, becoming more delicate, feminine even, "As for me, was nice chattin' with ya, but I'ma go bug Cress." With a mischievous grin he turned to go, tossing his rapidly lengthening hair over his shoulder. Lucca could hear Cohen make a 'tch' noise as he left. "Your height-weight ratio is off and your gait is reminiscent of a man. 6.5." He stopped and turned back around, levelling the man with a challenging stare, "What, you think you could do better? And the gait doesn't count, its intentional right now." Cohen made a sardonic sneer, "Oh, and your voice is too shrill. 6. A convincing woman, but not an attractive one." "Fuck you, let's see you try!" he continued with a snort and a haugty toss of his head, "I was going for subtle rather than attractive ''anyway, so nyah." "Pfft, subtle?" he rolled his eyes. "I doubt the boy's ability to understand subtle, he dyes his hair neon and has the vocabulary of a drunken farmer. But alright, are we aiming for attractive or subtle? ...And who's judging, on the grounds that I'm assuming the elf-boy's brain is just going to utterly collapse." "Stop being a dick about Cress or I'll come over there and clock you one!" Lucca scowled and folded his arms, "If we're gonna do this, might as well go full out: we're aiming for attractive. We start with Cress, and once he flips out, move on to whoever we find next...except Ryu, 'cause he's lame. And I feel like Bastion'd be no fun either...but whatever," he shrugged. "I am actually legitmately surprised how little I get 'clocked', actually, especially how often people threaten to," he replied thoughtfully. With possibly too much due seriousness, he continued, "Same age, mid-twenties. Asonian, otherwise people will have a racial bias, and I'm not as familiar with Yeto or Northland standards. Do you want to control for eye or hair colour, or leave that to discretion? And, are we going to alter our clothes, and are we using make-up? Also, I won't go near the woman, and I think the...rabbit lady whose name escapes me, is uncomfortable in my presence to begin with. This leaves us with Mr. Erzebet, Mr. Webber and Ms. Levine...unless you want to add the opinion of the tiny monster." "Virgil totes gets a vote! Carrot too, cause it's funny!" he thought for a moment, "Mmmh, I like them rules, they're fair...eye and hair colour should be left to discretion...no clothing alteration, or if so, only minor; things get messy fast if we go down that road...and I feel like using makeup would give me an unfair advantage, so no." Cohen looked like he was about to make a retort to that comment, but stopped himself and looked thoughtful. Lucca flashed a smirk, then added, "Plus, it takes away from the point, anyway. Anything else?" Cohen still looked thoughtful as he said, "Consider the implication that we apparently both assumed that we both had access to women's make-up." Shaking his head a bit, he continued, "No, those rules seem legitimate. I need a few minutes to prepare; I don't have innate shifting abilities like some present parties seem to have, so I need to go make an infusion. Pick your persona, I'll meet you back here in ten minutes, or as close as I can guess to that without a watch." With that, he turned to leave, retreating to his room down the hall. Offering only a sharp nod in response, Lucca leaned against the wall falling into rather deep thought as he planned out the form he'd take. Eventually he shifted once more, and wandered down to one of the bathrooms to make use of the mirror, tweaking a feature here and there until he was satisfied. After some time he returned to the hallway and slid to the floor to await the doctor's return. A short while later, Cohen returned, though even more dramatically disguised than earlier. Recognizable only by his clothes, he had changed nearly every other aspect of his appearance. The form he had settled on was a young woman, in her mid- to late-twenties, with very long, slightly wavy hair, shiny and in a rich mahogany colour. Her eyes were a bright green, and her skin was perfect, just slightly tanned with a hint of freckles along her nose and cheekbones. Her teeth were flawless, and her height and hourglass shape were made perfectly to both appear distinctly and envyingly feminine, and be accentuated by the men's clothes she wore rather than hidden by them. She smiled, a strange combination of feminine beauty and the doctor's familiar sardonic grin. She was greeted with a laugh and shake of the head from the woman seated on the floor. As much a picture of perfection as her counterpart, she was tall and willowy, with a river of straight, glossy hair cascading well past her waist. It's brilliant coppery hue set off her large, blue-green eyes and complemented her immaculate porcelain complexion exquisitely. Using a series of clever tucks and knots, the druid had tweaked his outfit to better showcase the shapely curves of his new form, which became all the more evident as she gracefully rose to her feet. "Apparently, we think alike," she said, flashing a dazzling grin back at the doctor and fussing with her bangs a bit. "All the better," the other woman replied, her voice a velvety alto. "But in any art or science, the devil's in the details. Let's see what people prefer." "Shall we?" she asked, gesturing towards the mess. "Of course." The two strode towards the door of the dining room. Inside sat Cress, his back turned towards them as he ate a rather magnificent specimen of sandwich. He hadn't noticed their entrance. Cohen leaned towards Lucca and whispered, "How badly do we intend to break him?" "Quite thoroughly," the druid grinned devilishly. "Well then," Cohen gestured for Lucca to lead on. The pair strutted across the room, stealing up on the unsuspecting elf. Reaching him first, Lucca came right up to Cress, leaning over his shoulder to look at his face. The elf flinched in shock, his eyes widening in confusion as the image of the flawless woman's face filled his vision. "Hi," Lucca said dramatically. Cohen wasted no time repeating the maneuver on Cress' other shoulder, pressing his augmented chest against the young man. "Could you help us with a little something?" Cress, who had been in the middle of a bite, swallowed the wrong way. As he coughed and gasped, Cohen pouted, "Don't choke." "Easy there, killer! Breathe!" With a lilting giggle, Lucca patted him on the back as he tried to catch his breath, "Sorry about earlier. You were right, that wasn't very nice of me at all, was it? Asking you if the creepy old doctor was good looking or not...what a meanie, tsk." He gave an exaggerated pout as he sidled around the elf and took a seat on the table in front of him. He slowly crossed his legs and leaned forward, holding Cress' gaze all the while, "So! I've got a different question for you: Which one of us..." he grinned wickedly, "...is hotter?" "It must be hard," Cohen interjected, sliding down to sit next to Cress, taking hold of his chin and moving his head to look at him instead, breaking Cress' stunned gaze on Lucca. "because we're both obviously very good." The beauty leaned in closer, tilting out her lips as she spoke. "So think about it carefully." Cress faltered, looking between the two, at a loss. "Aww, come on, Cressy!" Lucca laughed after a few moments, "You? Speechless? I don't believe it!" She reached out and brushed a lock of hair away from his face, letting her fingers trail lightly along his cheek, then neck, "It's such a simple question: Me? or Her?" She bit her lip coyly, and looked at him through lowered lashes, waiting for an answer. Cress stammered as the two women fawned over him. It took a minute before he jumped up, his face red. "Nhaaaa, you're both fucked up! What the fucking fuck fuck??" he swore. Stumbling, blushing and making a crying noise, he rushed for the door, as the laughter of two women followed him. "Well," Cohen said between giggles, "We aren't any closer to our intended goal, but in about two minutes, we could go discover what an elf sounds like when crying in a cold shower." Flopped back on the table, Lucca was almost speechless with laughter. Eventually he settled down enough to speak, wiping at his eyes as he sat up, "Ah, spirits help me, that was beautiful. So worth it! Fuckin' hell." A renegade snicker escaped as he continued, hopping down from the table, "He can simmer for a bit and maybe we'll catch him again later...let's go find our next victims. Common room or command?" "We might as well look in the common room, it's on the way," Cohen suggested. The pair set back off into the hallway, stepping into the common room. Inside they found Cheko, minding two children who had managed to cover much of the ground's surface in paints and papers. All three looked up as they entered: Cheko's ears perked up in confusion, Shintaro made a wary look, and Virgil grinned. "Hi Lucca. Hi other person," he said brightly before turning back to his work. "I'm painting!" It actually looked less like he was painting an object, and more like he was swirling pools of paint together. "I'm tryin' to make a new colour, but I keep getting brown. I like this brown though. It has blue in it," he said as he pointed at a particular patch. "Heya squirt! How's it goin'?" Lucca gave a nod of greeting to the other two, before walking over to crouch next to Virgil. He inspected the colour closely before giving an approving nod, "Looks good! If you take your blue and mix it with your yellow you'll get a new colour. Or if you mix blue with red, makes a good one." He gave the boy an inquisitive look, "Can I ask you a silly question? We're trying to find out which one of us is prettier; what do you think?" he guestured between himself and Cohen. Virgil considered Lucca's words regarding colours and nodded. When he asked the question, Virgil looked at the two with great scrutiny. Eventually, he pointed at Cohen, "She is." "Nuh uh," Shintaro piped up. "She is," pointing at Lucca. "Nuh uh! She's got nicer eyes." "Her hair is prettier." "Nyah!" Virgil stuck his tongue out at Shintaro, who responded in kind before both went right back to painting. "Ummm...what are you doing, hun?" Cheko asked the woman she thought was probably Lucca. "Hmm? We're having a competition to see who's better at shifting into an attractive woman. Because boredom," he shrugged, shooting a glance toward Cohen, then standing up, "We'll go now, though. Sorry." "No problem sweetie, but that is a mighty odd hobby you've thought up," she shrugged. "I'd give ya my opinion, but I'm afraid the pair of ya look about the same to me," she said with a bashful grin, her ears folding back. He chuckled softly, "Yeah, I guess it's a bit weird...and thanks for the offer." "Bye Lucca. Bye Cress," Virgil said as the pair made to leave. "Goodbye," Shintaro added. He thanked the boys and waved over his shoulder as he headed out the door with Cohen, not bothering to correct Virgil. "Well, looks like we're one for one, so far. Let's see what the old dudes and Bastion have to say." Lucca commented as he opened the door to the command room, "Would you like to do the honors this time?" he asked, guesturing for Cohen to lead the way. The two walked into the command room. Bastion wasn't around, but Victor and Pierce were standing by a terminal, talking about something or other. Cohen cleared his throat, prompting the others to turn around. Pierce made a face of confusion, but Victor seemed unfazed, raising an eyebrow in expectance. "Which of the two of us would you say is prettier?" he asked, striking a not-overly-dramatic pose, joined by Lucca. Pierce blinked, coughed and said, "I'm married, so I'm not sure I should be having this conversation." Victor scrutinized them, then offered, "You're both a bit young for me, personally." "Don't be a pain in the ass, old man! Answer the damn question!" Lucca fixed him with a fierce glower, then turned to Cohen, "Can you tweak yours, or would you have to brew something up first?" "Well, now we know which one is Lucca," Victor smiled. "Which must make you...the doctor? You're too polite to be Cress, and I can't imagine you being either of the Komatsus. The other two women wouldn't need potions to shift, I'd think." "I made extra," Cohen replied, ignoring Victor. He pulled a small vial from a pocket, filled with a translucent greenish fluid. "Thirty?" "Thirty should be good..." he turned to Victor, "Eh, princess? Or do we need to go for 33.2 or something?" Victor just smiled, "While I'm interested in what difference you'd think there was between the two, no, I think thirty would be fine." "What are you both doing?" Pierce asked. "Competing," Cohen said simply. "You should vote too, Mr. Webber; it's just a costume contest, really." Lucca chimed in before turning away from the others to tweak his shift to a more appropriate age. Cohen made a contemplative face, then drank the fluid from the vial. After a few seconds, both women, though superficially the same, had changed subtly to appear half a decade older. Victor put his hand to his mouth, carefully considering the two. "What are your thoughts, Pierce?" Pierce looked at them both, shrugged, and said, shaking his head, "Well, I'm no professional judge of drag..." Regardless, he appeared to scrutinize them as well. "They're very similar, that's the problem," Victor added. "That's the point," Cohen said. Victor commented, "Neither are particularly imaginative." "Bullshit. The hell do you figure?" Lucca retorted, hands on his hips. "You've both made very unimaginative women, that's all. It's almost unrealistic. You both look what I'd imagine a fey would turn into to seduce a man, trying to be perfect." Pierce nodded, "He's got a point. You're both obviously extremely attractive, but there's not a lot of difference, really. Kind of a matter here if you like slightly oranger hair or freckles." The druid scowled and stuck out his tongue at them, "Come ooon. You guys suck. Why you gotta be so nitpicky? Sheesh!" "It is funny to hear your voice paired with that form, though," Victor said smugly. "Your language doesn't suit a young lady." "Alright, alright, Victor: ginger or freckles?" Pierce turned the conversation back. Looking at the other man, he shrugged, "Honestly, I couldn't care less." "Not enough fur?" Pierce waggled his eyebrows. Victor rolled his eyes in response. "I'm probably going to have to go with the ginger girl," Pierce declared. Cohen looked thoughtful, "Can I ask why?" Shrugging, Pierce replied, "Gut feeling. You know how it is." "Not particularly, that's why we're doing this," was Cohen's response. This earned a brief, inquisitive glance from the other woman. Victor replied, "I'd have to say the freckles. It detracts slightly from the otherworldly flawlessness of everything else." "Hmm, I suppose that could be important," Cohen postulated. "Making everything too exact becomes unnatural, causing an instinctive adversion to the image." Lucca heaved a sigh, "...Really? One for one? Again? Guuuys." He threw up his hands and shook his head. "Oy." "I'm sorry, I didn't know there was a tie," Victor said. "Who else do you have to ask?" "Just Ms. Levine," Cohen replied. "We're...excluding the Komatsus." "I think she's asleep," Pierce offered. "Hrm, that's a shame," Cohen said. "I'm not waking someone up." Victor offered, "Did you ask Cheko?" "Cheko, that's her name, Cheko," Cohen muttered. "Yes, she had no opinion. Oh, though I suppose Anna is still about." "Yes, Carrot! Let's get her in on this!" Lucca concurred, adding thoughtfully, "And I guess if she doesn't break the tie, we can always go for Cress: round two. See if we actually make his brain explode." As Lucca made this comment, Cohen walked towards the grate on the upper wall. Giving the duct a few knocks, he called the orange kobold, who crawled out a minute later. She looked at the two women with mild confusion, looked towards Victor and Pierce, then turned back. "W-who are you?" she asked simply. "Heya Carrot!" Lucca waved to the kobold, "It's just us, Dr. Cohen," he pointed to the other woman, and then himself, "And Lucca. Got a question for ya! We're having a contest to see who's the prettier lady but we're at a tie; what do you think?" "Uuuuhm," she thought about it for a moment, squinting her eyes and rubbing her chin. Eventually, she offered, "I d-d-dunno. You don't have tails or scale p-p-patterns. Or f-f-frills, but you wouldn't have those if you're g-girls. S-So I dunno. W-what makes human girls pretty?" "I think if we explain it, it won't really count," Cohen postulated. "I'm s-sorry." "No no, not a problem, don't concern yourself," he said. "Ah well, that's cool..." Lucca looked a bit crestfallen, as Carrot returned from whence she came. He turned to Cohen, "What do you think? Call it a tie? Try to extract something other than babbles from Cress? I don't wanna wake Bastion up for something like this..." "I suppose we can ask him once more," Cohen replied, "Then if we don't get an answer, we call a tie, because we obviously made the forms too close. The differences are too subtle to be detected by the people we have to ask." "Are you calling us thick?" Pierce asked, grinning. "Fighting words, coming from a man in drag." "You're more than welcome to join us," Cohen replied, pulling out another vial, "See if you can do any better." "Heh, no, I'll pass. You two are the prettiest women on the boat." "Fuckin' right!" the druid chirped. Cohen snorted, then turned to Lucca, "Shall we?" "Let's!" he agreed, leading the way out of the command room and back the way they came, "Think he's still in the bathroom? Kinda sounds like it..." The two approached the closed bathroom door and listened. "...Yes, he's in there," Cohen said, turning towards Lucca. "Are we going to break him again, or just ask?" "I can hear you two out there!" a muffled voice came from within. "Fuck you both." "Nah, fun as it is, breaking him means we for sure don't get an answer." Turning his attention to the elf, Lucca said, "Cress, open the door. We legit need to know who's the better chick, and we've already asked everyone else; so far it's a tie." Putting on a dramatic voice, he leaned against the door and added, "Only you can decide! Only you, can put an end to our suffering! Be the hero, Cress! Tell us: who is the hotter chick!?" "FUCK. YOU. BOTH," he declared loudly. "You're both the same amount of fuckin' weird, and I'm not coming out until you're dudes again." "Uuuuuuuuugh, Cress, you're such a biiiitch. Come oooooon, dude!" as he cajoled the elf he caught Cohen's gaze and gave him a look that was equal parts askance and mischief. "Fuuuuuuuuuck. Youuuuuuuu," eminated from the bathroom. "Alright, fine, we surrender. No more women," Cohen declared, pulling out the vial of green liquid again. "Tie for the moment?" he asked. When Lucca agreed, he mumbled quietly, "He only said we had to be male..." Drinking the potion, he turned himself into a rather brilliantly green goblin who, garbed in the doctor's magically shrunk clothes, appeared rather smartly dressed for one of its kind. "I like your style," the druid mumbled with a grin as he shifted back into his usual form. He called back to Cress, his voice now back to its familiar sound, "Kay bro, fine! We're dudes again! See? You can quit being such a baby and come out now!" He began shifting once more, almost as soon as the final word had left his mouth. This time, the change was much more dramatic; rather than assuming a humanoid form, he opted for that of a great cat with spotted, silvery-grey fur. Sinking down into a crouch, he waited for the elf to open the door, wiggling his hindquarters, his tail twitching. "...And the other guy..." "Yes, not a woman," Cohen replied, his voice his own despite his body. "...Fine." With that, the door swung open, revealing a grumbling Cress, his lackluster hair wet from a shower. He was greeted almost immediately by a tremendous, hair raising growl as the snow leopard launched itself at him, tackling him to the floor. "Gah, what the hell?" he yelled. Wrestling around, he punched the large feline on its nose, recieving a wet sneeze and a bat from an enormous paw for his trouble. The doctor watched with vague interest as the two scuffled about. This went on for a bit, the big cat emitting an odd staccatto growl that sounded uncannily like laughter all the while. The beast only relented after putting the elf in a solid headlock and gnawing at his head a bit, making a fine mess of his freshly washed hair. Leaping away, he settled down to lick at one of his paws with the sort of exaggerated smugness only a feline could achieve. With a look of frustration and mute fury, Cress gave the cat the finger, followed by the goblin, then the cat again before storming past the both of them and dropping down the ladder that led to the lower rooms. "Well, that was an event," Cohen said. A pen materializing in his hand, he began to spin it around deftly, tossing it easily into the air and catching it repeatedly as he began to walk down the hall. "I'll be interested in what round two of our contest shapes up to be...heh." He chuckled at his pun, and slid down the ladder himself. It wasn't long before Lucca followed suit, padding silently through the hall and diving down the hatch with a flick of his tail, setting a course for the common room in search of a new playmate, or two. Category:Advent of the All